


The Birds and the Bees

by Wayward_Panda



Category: NoPixel
Genre: AU, Angst, Drabbles, Flashbacks, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, mentions of a Really Ambiguous War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2020-03-14 16:01:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18951403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wayward_Panda/pseuds/Wayward_Panda
Summary: A series of Raven/Bobby drabbles! Some of them take place in alternate universes.





	1. Adoption AU

**Author's Note:**

> So, this first drabble takes place in an AU where Bobby and Raven get married and adopt a kid. It was based on a very short conversation during story time.

Cooking's turned into one of his favorite pastimes now. It allows him to put his knife skills to use in a more productive way, lets him focus on something physical instead on mental for a change. Because tracking down criminals is exciting, it's what he lives for, but cooking is one of the few things that he can enjoy outside of work. It's nice worrying about how much salt to put in a meal instead of what crimes to charge someone with. 

Speaking of salt, he could definitely season the chicken more. Raven adds a liberal amount into a pan, adding some garlic powder and parsley in as well. It's just stir fry, nothing super impressive, but it's a good way to get rid of the leftover rice from the Chinese outing the three of them had taken the other night. 

He tastes the chicken and finds it satisfactory, dumping the poultry in with the rice and veggies. In the distance, he can hear the sound of a car pulling up, and Raven smiles. He turns off the stove a bit prematurely, knowing that in a moment, the door would slam open and Matilda would race in, eager to tell him all about her day. It was very cute, but it did make it difficult to continue cooking. 

A small, shrill scream of, "Daddy!" is all the warning he gets. The door practically flies open at the sheer force of excitement, and in an instant, a small bundle of brown hair attaches itself to his leg. If it hadn't been for his iron legs and years of being in the Middle East, Raven was certain he would've been knocked over. Instead, he places his spoon down and goes over to hug the young girl, squeezing tight. 

"Hey there, pumpkin," he eventually says, pulling away from the hug. "How was school?"

Matilda bounces up and down excitedly. "Super great! Some of the caterpillars turned into butterflies today! It was cool! But, um…" Abruptly, she stops, glancing around. "Don't tell Dad, but…" She cups her hands, whispering into Raven's ear. "…some of the cocoons look like shit."

"I heard that!" Both of their heads swivel around, landing on the other figure leaning against the doorframe. Matilda squeaks in surprise, deciding that it's safer to hide behind Raven's back than to face the wrath of her other father. But Raven doesn't have any fear, opting instead to walk over and give Bobby a peck on the cheek. 

"Welcome home, honey," he says lowly, smiling at the way Bobby's eyes soften. "How was your day?"

"It's been fine," he says easily. But his gaze turns more pointed as he looks at Matilda, who's moved up with Raven. "What isn't fine, is when you use that kind of language, young lady," he chastises. 

Matilda pouts. "But you and Daddy say it!" She speaks matter-of-factly, crossing her arms. "Why can't I?"

"You can say it when you're older," Raven interrupts diplomatically, before a long debate can start. "Now, go put your bag away and wash up. It's time to eat."

Matilda doesn't look too happy with that answer, but she complies anyway. Raven sighs as he watches her go, before moving back to take care of the dinner. Bobby follows suit, taking out some cups for the three of them. Raven clears his throat, "I'll just take a water." Bobby's responds with "Alright," and the two of them lapse into silence. 

After a moment, Bobby speaks up. "…I got a call from the teacher today," he says, keeping his voice low.

"Oh?" Raven glances over, concerned. Calls from the teacher were never a good thing. Matilda had a tendency to be a more rowdy kid, so they weren't exactly uncommon, but Raven dreaded them all the same. 

"Yeah, apparently Matilda's been fighting again? The teacher says that it was some other girls antagonizing her, but still…" Bobby trails off. "Apparently she broke a girl's nose."

"Oh… I see," Raven tries to keep an even tone. Inwardly though, he's proud of his daughter. He's glad that she doesn't take anybody's shit. Plus, her fighting skills have gotten better. He didn't see a scratch on her when she raced in, and an eight year old punching with enough strength to break someone's nose is impressive. 

Bobby, however, sees through his bullshit. "Raven, I'm serious. She can't be starting fights like this."

"You said the other girls were antagonizing her!" Raven points out. 

"Yeah, but that doesn't give her the right to break someone's nose!" Bobby says, exasperated. He sets the glasses on the table and walks to the fridge. 

"They probably had it coming," Raven mutters petulantly. He's being petty, he knows it, but he can't help it. If those kids didn't want to get hurt, they shouldn't have harassed his kid. He wasn't above punching little girls. 

Bobby, however, unfortunately was. "That doesn't matter." He sets the cups down on the table- two waters and some apple juice for Matilda. "Anyways, I'm gonna have her go over and apologize tomorrow. Do you still have that school directory? I need to find that that mother's number."

Raven clears his throat. "Uh, yeah, it should be on shelf over there." He points at a vague direction to his left. Truth be told, he's got no idea where it is. He's pretty sure Bobby doesn't have a clue either, but he obediently makes his way over there anyway, shifting through the large piles papers. 

Neither of them speak for a while, the only sounds being Bobby flicking through stacks of papers while Raven plates up dinner. The silence between them is uncomfortable, but Raven really has no idea what to say. He's always tended to favor action rather than standing back and being passive, but he's also well aware of how Bobby's the exact opposite. It caused disagreements like this a couple of times. 

Raven sighs, setting the pan down. After a while, Bobby clears his throat. "Er, I was also thinking…" He turns away from the papers, facing his husband instead. "I want to take Matilda out of martial arts."

Raven's glad he's already put the pan down, because otherwise, he definitely would've dropped it. "Okay…?" He says slowly, not really understanding Bobby's reasoning for it. Or why it came up, seemingly out of the blue. 

"It's just, things have gotten a lot crazier lately," Bobby explains, sensing his husband's confusion. His brows are furrowed in worry as he continues, "And if word gets out that we adopted Matilda… I don't know, I just don't want anything to happen to her."

Raven nods, slowly. "I understand completely," he says, thinking. Matilda was a newer addition to the family, but Raven couldn't imagine a life without her. In the span of two years, she had become another light in his life- one that he would protect with his life. And Bobby was right- there was a sharp increase of crime lately. With all the shootouts and power plant hits, it was natural to be worried. The last thing Raven wanted to see was his little girl's life in danger.

The relief on Bobby's face is obvious. "Glad we're on the same page with that."

"Yeah, yeah, of course," Raven says, putting the plates on the table. "Plus, I'm sure she can still learn self-defense moves. I know Copper was wanting to teach her some things."

"I can learn with Aunt Copper now?!" An excited squeal rings out from behind them. Both Raven and Bobby's heads snap over, only to see Matilda bouncing from foot to foot in the doorway. 

Bobby frowns. "What did I say about eavesdropping?"

Matilda's demeanor changes in an instant, her head drooping low and her eyes downcast. "I'm sorry," she apologizes, looking up. "But I finished washing my hands!" She exclaims proudly, holding them up for examination.

Raven grabs her hands and squints dramatically, straining to keep a straight face as Matilda giggles. "Hmm…" he says in a deep voice, "I suppose you have. In that case, I guess you can partake in dinner."

Matilda cheers, eagerly racing to the table. "Don't forget your fork!" Bobby calls out, prompting her to race back and grab one. She still makes it to the table before Bobby does. (Sometimes Raven wonders if he has the slowest walk in all of the police force.)

Regardless, the whole table feels warm and lively. Beside him, Matilda is happily chattering away, while Bobby begrudgingly scoops another spoonful of stir fry onto her plate. Outside, the world is full of unforeseen dangers and deadly criminals. But inside, the biggest thing Raven has to worry about is Matilda getting a stomach ache. He knows he can't avoid his problems, he knows the how dangerous that can be, but he also know that it's in this home that he's finally learned to take a break from all his troubles. It's because of the light that Bobby and Matilda provide that Raven can allow himself to relax. Because he would fight the whole world to protect the people he loved, if it ever came down to it. 

Though, he hoped it never would.


	2. Noir AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bobby is desperate and Raven's got too much paperwork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After 17 years, I've finally finished it! I've had this AU in my head since Raven first did the Noir stuff. I might come back to this AU someday, who knows? But if you guys have prompts or other stuff you'd like to see, just let me know!!

Work is slow, he thinks to himself, watching the smoke blow out from his cigarette. The open window next to him provides a large view of the city, gray and lifeless in the rain. The near bucketfuls of downpour is the only reason he's not smoking outside. And the rain doesn't seem to show any signs of stopping. Just like work, he compares, placing the cigarette back to his lips again. Can't find any leads, but the paperwork's still piling up. 

Raven sighs, watching the smoke dissipate into thin air, leaving behind nothing but a bad smell. These goddamn criminals just keep on getting smarter and smarter every day. It'd be easier if I could just put a bullet in their heads, he gripes, putting the cigarette out, It's what we did in the Middle East.

He grimaces, as if the mere thought of it left a bitter taste in his mouth. The Middle East was great in a lot of ways- he was high enough on the pecking order to essentially do whatever the fuck he wanted. But of course, it was also a goddamn war, so the opposing side could do the same. Still, it was nice to be able to solve all his problems with a gun or a well placed grenade. 

Nowadays, things like that would just give me more paperwork. Raven glances back to his desk, eying the large amount of files haphazardly spread everywhere. He's stuck between dead ends and trails long gone cold. Gangs have bring springing up only for seconds before burying their heads deep underground again. Most police officers would be relieved at the break it provided, but not Raven. He knew that every second they weren’t on the street, those thugs would just be planning their next big heist. The criminals of Los Santos never seemed to know when to quit, to decide that their dirty money was worth it and live the rest of their lives in luxury. No, it was the thrill that they were addicted to- the rush of the wind blowing through their hair as they sped away laughing in their tuned import vehicles. It was something Raven could understand. 

Regardless, as of right now, he really had nothing to go off of. All he could really do was wait for some more information to trickling in, like a leaky faucet. It seemed like the day was going to be as eventful as the dreary weather.

That is, until he walked into the room.

The man entered without knocking, confident until he saw that he wasn't alone. Raven's head snapped to the door, and as he meets intruder's gaze, he takes note of his rather unusual clothing. Compared to Raven in his normal detective uniform- a nice suit, blue tie, LSPD badge, dress shoes- this man looked woefully underdressed. All he had on was some plain brown boots, baggy jeans, and a red flannel shirt, with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He was slightly damp, apparently his large cowboy hat caught most of the rain. 

"Oh shit," the man curses, definitely not prepared to see someone else in the room. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't realize-"

"It's fine," Raven waves the apology off. If he hadn't already deduced so by the clothes, the accent confirmed it. This man was not from around the city. Judging by the hat and the slight twang his voice carried, the detective was fairly confident this man was from the south. Which also meant that there was a high chance of him being a talker, and Raven didn't care for his time being wasted. He'd rather cut to the chase. "What can I help you with?"

The man blinks, taken aback by his brusque tone. "Uh, well…" he stammers, trying to get a grip, "You're Detective Vladimir Raven, right?"

"S'what the sign says on the door." Raven nods pointedly to it as he dumps the ashes of the long-forgotten cigarette out of the tray and into the trash. "You can read, can't you?"

"Of course!" The man affirms, frowning. "How the fuck would I have gotten this far if I didn't know how to read?" He asks, defensively.

Raven raises his hands in peace. "Hey, I'm just making sure," he says, letting them fall back to his side. He sighs, making his way back to his desk and taking a seat. As professionally as he can, he stacks the papers in a neat file. With any luck, he'd be able to get this over with and organize them in no time. "So then," he clears his throat dramatically, "What brings you here today, sir?"

The man also clears his throat, though not as dramatically as Raven. "I hear you're the best detective in the city-"

"You've got good sources," Raven interrupts, pulling out his flask and taking a sip. A long one. 

"-And I need your help," the cowboy continues, ignoring the little insert. "Is there any way you could take on another case right now?"

Raven hums, glancing sideways at the towering stack of papers. He’s got work, but it’s incredibly boring stuff- and it consumed hours of his time. A fresh new case could inspire a new train of thinking with his older ones, and it would be nice to work on something new. Of course, he didn't want to let the other man in on his train of thought just yet. "Weeellllll," he says while stretching his arms, "Given that I am the best detective in this goddamn city, I can't afford to take every case. So how 'bout you just tell me what your problem is, and we'll go from there."

"Sure," the man agrees, swaggering over to the seat opposite to him. Raven can't help but grimace briefly as the cowboy sits down, because now he would get the chair all wet and that would be a goddamn pain to air out. The man doesn't notice though, he's too occupied with scooting the seat forward. "So, uhh…" he begins once he's all adjusted, "Well, I've been following this gang for years now. They're called the Tarzans, have you heard of them?"

Raven shakes his head, and the man looks a little disappointed. "That's fine," he says, trying to convince both Raven and himself. "Well, they do lot of stupid shit. Y'know, uh… drug trafficking, robberies, gunfights. This one's based down in south Dallas. Or, were, anyway."

Raven hums, processing the information. It sounds like normal gang shit so far, nothing too out of the ordinary. Outside, a loud thunderclap booms, but neither of the two take notice.

The man clears his throat. "The thing is, the Tarzans have been getting pushed out as of late. They've been struggling with the police and other gangs in the area. A couple months ago, they just fucking disappeared."

"The whole gang?" Raven interrupts, raising an eyebrow.

"No, no," the cowboy quickly assures, "They left some lackeys behind. But like, the higher ups, all their more valuable members- gone. Places we suspected they hid their drugs and guns turned up vacant. It was like the whole goddamn crew just ceased to exist."

Raven nods slowly. Suspicious behavior indeed, he ponders to himself. "So," he begins, leaning forward in his seat, "Where do you think they went?" The detective’s already got a sneaking suspicion, given the fact that he was even being informed of this right now, but it never hurt to be on the safe side. 

"A few weeks ago, we got a tip from a former gang member." The man also scoots his seat up a little, the wooden legs dragging across the carpeted floor. "He said that some of the gang was trying to relocate here, in Los Santos. I've been scoping the area out, and I think I've got some criminals with descriptions matching some of the big Tarzan members."

Raven nods again. If this is all true, this was great information. Instead of just catching one or two petty criminals, they could potentially link them all to gang related violence. Adding gang stuff to their normal charges would mean a much longer jail sentence, and a less likely chance for them to get out and hurt people again. 

However, that’s only if everything the man said is factual. Raven doubts he would lie, he just doesn’t seem like that type of person, but tips from former gangsters honestly wasn't much to go on. Descriptions and hard facts, he could work with. But everything being said right now was just hearsay. A court would tear things like that apart if he used them.

No, this is a case that he’s going to have to devote a lot of time to, and right now, he’s not in a position to do more paperwork. Raven sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Look," he begins, watching as the cowboy sits up straighter in his seat, "This is all very… useful information, but unfortunately, I can't really do anything with this right now."

There's a beat of silence before the man speaks up. "…what?" He asks, as if the words have finally sunk in. "What do you mean?"

Raven grimaces. Breaking difficult news to people is definitely one of the worst things about being a police officer. "I mean, I can't take on this case. Your information's valuable, trust me, but I can't solely go of it. I need to verify identities and see if we actually have probable cause to do anything."

"Can't you city guys just do that?" The man almost demands, as if it's just that easy. Raven wants to snap at him just for that remark alone, but there's a desperation in the other's eyes that stops him. 

He decides to explain, in as gentle of a way he can, "I've got a lot of cases on my hands right now," Raven gestures to the paperwork on his desk, hoping the man can be sympathetic, "I really just don't have the time to look into it further. If you fill out a report, I'm sure we can-"

"You don't need to do the formality bullshit," the man interrupts him, though he doesn't sound too hostile, "I'm a police officer too, I know how long the fucking reports can take. I know half of these civilian cases never even make it anywhere, either. Just, please…" the man looks at him pleadingly. "Is there really no way you can take one more case?"

Raven opens his mouth to protest, but the man barrels on, "Please!" He bursts out, jumping to his feet. "I lost them once- I can't lose them again!" His face is wracked with emotions: anger, sadness, desperation. He's breathing heavily too, clearly distraught over the whole situation, but then he sighs. It's as if he realizes there's no point in making a scene. 

Running a hand across his face, the man slumps back into his seat. "Please…" he repeats, voice raw with emotion, "They killed my sister, I can't let them get away again."

Raven blinks. That's… not something he was expecting. It made sense why he'd want to go through all this trouble though. "Your sister?" He prompts, wanting to know more. It’s not like he doesn't trust the man, Raven just wants to be cautious. He tries to look as understanding and empathetic as he can.

The man doesn't meet his gaze. "…It was a drive-by accident gone wrong in southern Dallas," Raven nods, grabbing a nearby notepad and writing the info down. How can a drive-by accident go right? he wonders to himself, but chalks it up to high emotions making the man sound stupid. The man continues, "I was walking around with my sister, Matilda. We were talking about one of my football games- I was the star quarterback for my school's team, and this game was the one against the Jersey City Jaguars, where I got an ankle injury that caused me to fumble the game-winning touchdown, and made me lose out on my college scholarship and football career, which is one of the reasons I initially went into law school instead of being a police officer, because-"

"Okay, hold on a sec." The man looks up and blinks, as if he's finally aware of his surroundings. (His surroundings being in front of a very annoyed looking detective, who's paused his notes and is looking at him pointedly.) "How… exactly is this relevant?"

"Uhhh…" The man's dumbfounded. "I guess it really isn't."

If he weren't such an alpha male, Raven would consider crying. He opts for a very dramatic sigh/facepalm combo instead. "Sir, if you're not going to be taking this seriously-"

"I am serious, I swear!" The cowboy insists, rising from his chair in a rush to convince him. "I just get distracted sometimes, I'm sorry. I'll continue where I left off."

"No ramblings?" Raven raises an eyebrow.

"No rambling," he assures, so the detective allows him to continue. "Anyways, where was I…? Oh! Right, um…" The cowboy takes a breath, sitting back down in his chair before continuing, "My sister and I were walking back from the high school, when these cars roll up out of nowhere. They start shooting at each other and stuff and-" 

Abruptly, he stops, getting a faraway look in his eyes. "You alright?" Raven asks, frowning. He starts putting his notes down right as the guy snaps out of it.

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine," he insists, blinking. Then he clears his throat. "So um, anyway. Shooting. Yeah, they start shooting at each other. I tried to pull Matilda down out of the gunfire but… uh… she was already kinda going down…" The man trails off again, and Raven can't really blame him. He sympathizes with the stranger- he himself had lost quite a few good men during the war in the Middle East. But to lose a sister, someone you cared about…

"You don't have to continue if you don't want to," Raven says gently. But the man's already shaking his head. 

"No, it's alright. If this can help you, you know..." He assures him. "Anyway, EMS showed up. Took her to the hospital as quick as they could, and the doctors there did everything they could but… it was too late." The man shakes himself ever so slightly, as if trying to prevent himself from going into the stupor again. "It's why I wear this earring," he points out, angling his head so Raven can see the small silver skull hanging from his ear. "To represent the life that she can't live, to remind me what I'm living for."

Raven nods, slow and methodical. "And I assume that's why you decided to become a police officer, correct?"

The man's nods are quick, without much thought into them. "Yeah. Studied criminal justice, and have been in the force in Dallas for around… ten years now?" He pauses, frowning- like he can't remember how long it's been. "This is the first big lead I've gotten in ages, and I'll be damned if I fucking let it go now. So please-" The man stares directly at him, eyes pleading, "Can you take on this case?"

Raven sighs- and man, does he feel like he's been doing that a lot lately- and stares back. This isn’t enough to start off with. All he’s got is some shaky connections and rumors. Digging into this would take a lot of time and energy, and currently, he was running low on both of those. And it’s not like he owed this guy a favor or anything. The man literally comes up out of nowhere, shares his whole life story, and then pretty much demands Raven help him solve it. Essentially, anyway. 

Yet on the other hand… he can admire the guy's tenacity. His willingness to do anything to solve his sister's murder is something Raven can respect. He also respects the fact that he admitted he needed help. It would be easy to be gung-ho about things, especially since he was already a police officer. But the cowboy wasn't- he was polite, he didn't worry about appearances, and he wanted things done the right way. 

Absentmindedly, Raven looks the guy up and down. What he sees a determined, slightly damp cowboy who was at the edge of his seat, waiting for him to make a decision. The man can’t be too much older than him, and honestly, he doesn't look too shabby. He’s got nice hair, pretty eyes, and a toned body… it’s a shame he probably also had a little lady back down in Texas. 

But that stuff doesn’t matter anyway. No, what matters is if he’ll take on the case or not. Or, more aptly, is the guilt of saying no worth it? Honestly, he’s surprised he’s been so torn up about it. The opinions of others didn't really matter to him, so why is it so difficult to turn this guy down? Is it because he can sympathize with him? Or is it something more?

For the umpteenth time today, Raven sighs. (At this point, he’s more concerned about the amount of oxygen he lost every time he did it.) "Fine, fine," he says, rising to his feet, "I'll take your case."

"You will?" The man's eyes are as wide as dinner plates as he, too, shakily stands up. "Seriously?"

"If you don't want me to, that's fine, I've got lots of paperwork to do-"

"No no no no!" The cowboy quickly interrupts Raven before he can even finish that sentence. "You can take it, thank you!" 

Raven smirks at the other man turns to the side, eyes still wide. The man pinches himself, as he mutters lowly, "He actually took the case."

Abruptly, the phone rings. Raven picks up immediately. "Hello?" He calls.

"Hey," Jackie Snow's voice drifts through the other end, slightly muffled by the loud rain. Must be at a payphone then, Raven deduces. "Can you come meet me at Vinewood PD? It's urgent."

"Yeah, I'll be right over," Raven affirms, hanging up. Swiftly, he begins picking up his files. "Sorry, but I'm going to have to get going," he calls to the cowboy, who still looks surprised. "I've got a call. Can we meet up tomorrow to discuss this more?"

"Yeah, of course!" He says, a little rushed. "Uh, where should meet up? Here? And what time?"

But Snow's urgent information is the top thing in Raven's mind, so he can't come up with answers. "I don't know, just give me your number, and I'll call you."

The man nods, pulling out a spare notepad and writing a sequence of numbers down. "Here," he hands the scrap of paper to Raven.

"Thanks." Grabbing that and the last of his things, the detective heads towards towards the door. Just as he opens it for the cowboy, he suddenly stops. "You know, I never actually got your name," he realizes, turning off the lights and closing the door.

"It's, uh, Smith." The cowboy gives Raven a smile, a small genuine one. "Bobby Smith.”


	3. Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Raven-Smith family prepares for their first Christmas together! But nothing could've prepared Raven for this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, an update! This was supposed to be super Christmas-y but then this really got away from me. I also started writing this before the whole divorce arc went down, so don't worry, that won't appear here. A huge thank you to Vazdy, who helped edit this behemoth! 
> 
> ALSO! Warnings for descriptions of a panic attack, flashbacks, and a fairly graphic portrayal of violence.

Raven is not a fan of the cold.

 

Sure, he might’ve technically been born in Russia, but he doesn’t remember a damn thing about the country. He was raised in Australia, much more familiar with the sweltering heat that would stay more often than not. Even when he served in the military, he had been deployed in the Middle East, where the heat was just as extreme. When he started living in Los Santos, he had assumed the weather would be only slightly colder from where he lived in Australia. After all, it wasn’t like he was super up north, like New York or some shit. The state of San Andreas had deserts and stuff, so he thought that the winters wouldn’t be too harsh. Boy, was he wrong. 

 

Raven shivers, stuffing his hands deeper in the pockets of his long black coat. A part of him wishes, bitterly, that Bobby could’ve run these errands instead of him. After all, he had been the one insisting on decorations. _“What kind of psychopath doesn’t decorate for Christmas, Raven?!”_ Bobby’s voice nags in his head. Surprisingly, even Zelda had jumped on board, proclaiming that they needed a real tree and ornaments and streamers and all sorts of things that slightly overwhelmed Raven, to be honest. 

 

So now here he stands, a couple of days before Christmas, watching as a couple of hefty guys lug a nice looking pine tree to the back of Bobby’s old pickup truck. He supposed he _could_ expedite this process by helping them as well, but his hands were nice and toasty in his coat and it would be a damn shame to expose them to the harsh elements. Raven wasn’t about to put in extra effort for this whole thing, anyway. 

 

It wasn’t as if he hated Christmas- he’d seen enough _The Muppet Christmas Carol_ to know what would happen if you became a Scrooge- it was just that he was kinda unfamiliar with it now. The last time he actually celebrated it was when he was back in Australia, and even then, it was kinda lackluster. His mother had never been one for extravagance. 

 

But the way Bobby went on about it, it was obvious his family practically worshiped the holiday. He explained their traditions with such reverence that it felt more like a holy ritual than a celebration, one that Raven couldn’t help but dread as the fated day approached. Everything had to be perfect; he loved Bobby too much to settle for anything else. It was just… hard to remember everything sometimes. The whole thing was so unfamiliar and new, and to top it all off, work had been insanely stressful.

 

“Well, she’s on there good and tight!” a gruff voice chuckles from his right. Raven snaps out of his thoughts and faces the lumberjack looking dudes who had put the tree in the truck. Sure enough, the centerpiece to all their Christmas decor was currently draped atop the vehicle like a coniferous blanket, secured by rope. “You’re lucky you managed to find a beauty like this so close to Christmas,” the man chuckles, shaking his head. Raven personally thinks the tree looks pretty scraggly, but the securing of it at least looks solid, so Raven hands the man a few extra bills before entering Bobby’s old pickup truck and immediately turning the heat on. It’ll take him a good couple minutes for him to regain feeling in his face, especially considering how slowly the warmth seems to creak out of the truck, so he lets himself just sit in the car for a bit, soaking up the scarce heat like a sponge. With nothing else to do, it’s easy for his mind to wander, back to his previous train of thought. 

 

It wasn’t surprising that crime only increased for the holidays. Sure, there were more robberies and such, but there were also just… stupid people doing stupid things. The “Wet Bandits” had struck again, for like, the 18th time this week. A man claiming to be Kevin McAllister had started “bandit-proofing” houses in response, breaking into places to set up weird elaborate traps involving legos and other household items. There was a gang that dressed up as the Grinch the other day and went around harassing people- half of them were still at large. It was in times like these that Raven knew that Los Santos truly was the worst city in the world. 

 

Still, if that really was it, Raven wouldn’t have been as worried, These kinds of things were to be expected nowadays, much to his chagrin.  No, it were the threats that worried him. Real ones, serious ones, ones that could recount where he lived, how long he and Bobby had been married, what time his daughter liked to leave the house- those types of threats. The threats nagged at him constantly, taunting at his inability to find who the culprit was. Unfortunately, he couldn’t even narrow it down to people who held a grudge against him, because honestly, pretty much the whole city wanted him dead. Frankly, it was really annoying to have to watch his back twenty four seven.

 

Speaking of watching him, one of the buff dudes that put the tree in the car gives him a pointed look, and Raven takes it as his cue to leave. After all, he wasn’t frozen anymore. With a sigh, he exits the lot. 

 

The drive back home is slower than he would’ve liked, due to the large tree obscuring his vision to the back of the truck. It gives him a lot of time to think, which was something he didn’t really want to do. On instinct, he reaches for his flask and takes a swig, grimacing as the liquid makes its way down his throat. Bobby would’ve killed him if he saw, but frankly, Raven couldn’t be bothered. _We’re already sacrificing a lot for him,_ a selfish part of himself crows, excusing the action. Raven stops that train of thought with another swig of whiskey. 

 

But the thoughts did have a point. Raven was way out of element for the whole Christmas thing. And on top of that, he had to deal with normal police stress plus actual threats. He actually hadn’t told Bobby about the threats yet, mainly because he knew Bobby would worry over them once he found out. It would certainly ruin his whole Christmas mood, and Raven couldn’t bear doing that- not after Bobby had looked so goddamn _happy. “It’ll be our first Christmas as a family!”_ he had said excitedly, _“It’s gotta be perfect.”_

 

And goddamnit, Raven was going to make it perfect. If he had to suffer some more stresses, then so be it. Bobby and Zelda were worth it. 

 

He makes it back to the house, gets out of the truck, and stares at the massive tree before sighing. He hadn’t taken those Alex Jones Pro Male Vitality Supplements for nothing. With great difficulty, he manages to lug the tree out and hoist it up, half carrying/half dragging it to the front door. The cold almost stings as much as the pine needles digging into his skin, but Raven continues on anyway, hoping that Bobby would be able to see his struggle and open the door for him. Much to his dismay, the door’s not only closed, but also locked. With a solid kick, Raven bangs on the door, praying that Bobby can hear him. His arms were likely to fall off any given minute. 

 

Thankfully, Bobby does hear him, and answers the door fairly quickly. “Holy shit,” is all he can utter when he sees his tired husband pulling a massive Christmas tree through the door. He quickly helps out, grabbing the top of the tree from the floor.

 

“Where- where are we putting this?” Raven grits out, very much relieved with Bobby’s assistance. Not like he would tell him so. 

 

“The family room,” Bobby replies immediately, taking a tone that implies they’ve talked about this before. Raven cannot recall such a conversation. But as they make their way down the stairs, he realizes there’s a Christmas tree stand by the TV. At some point in time Bobby must’ve put it there, because Raven had been sure they were placing this behemoth in the dining room. Knowing Bobby, he probably had some weird Texas tradition that prevented the tree from being anywhere besides the family room. Oh well. He didn’t want to get into an argument about this anyway. 

 

With a loud grunt from both parties, Bobby and Raven hoist the tree on the stand and fit it properly. Once the deed is done, Raven lets himself step back and lets out a relieved sigh. The tree actually doesn’t look half bad. It’s very big, definitely, but it fills up the room nicely. A few decorations would make it look even better. _I can see why Bobby’s so excited then,_ Raven thinks, glancing over to his husband. He, too, is admiring the massive tree, staring up in awe at it. 

 

“It looks great,” Bobby breathes, a smile spreading across his face. “What do you think, babe?”

 

 _You look better,_ Raven almost says, but he doesn’t want to ruin the mood. Bobby looks at peace, and it makes Raven feel better about the work he was doing overtime to cause such a smile. “It looks nice, honey,” he agrees with him, because it really does. “When are we putting the ornaments on?”

 

That breaks Bobby out of his quiet reverie. “After I finish making the popcorn chain. I forgot I had to do that, shit,” he curses, making his way to the kitchen. As Raven watches him go, he notices that there’s a train of pine needles from the door to the stand. With a sigh, he goes to sweep them up. It wasn’t like Bobby was going to do any housework anyway. 

 

In the kitchen, Bobby gets out a small container of kernels. “So, we are having our Christmas here, right? And seeing my folks on New Years?”

 

That was the plan decided on, contingent on the factor of whether or not Raven could actually get the two of them off for Christmas. When it became clear that he could, Bobby had begun getting properly excited about the whole affair. Of course, Bobby’s parents had insisted that they come to their place for Christmas, but Raven wasn’t the biggest fan of the idea. (Admittedly, he was still a bit… apprehensive, around Bobby’s parents.) So a compromise was made- the Raven-Smith family would meet up with them on New Years instead. “That’s the plan,” he reaffirms. 

 

“So, hold up-” Bobby hums, mulling over a burning question. “When are we seeing your parents?”

 

Raven opens his mouth, And them closes it. “My parents are dead, Bobby.”

 

“Oh yeah. I forgot.” 

 

Raven chokes.

 

Bobby’s head pokes around the corner. “You alright?” He asks. Raven would’ve believed he was genuinely concerned if it wasn’t for the mirth sparkling in his eyes. 

 

So he plasters on a fake smile and stares directly at his… _wonderful_ husband. “Just peachy, _honey_!” He singsongs, promising death with every word. Bobby takes that as his cue to leave, however, Raven follows him, carrying a small dustpan with the fallen pine needles. 

 

“Wait, _wait!_ ” Bobby yelps, cornering himself against a wall inadvertently. He looks at Raven pleadingly. “I’m sorry! I actually did forget, sorry!” He insists, “Honestly, I wouldn’t have brought it up if I remembered.”

 

Raven raises an eyebrow, uncompromising. Despite his aggressive posture, he does believe him. Bobby could be stupid at times, but he wouldn’t have purposefully brought up his dead parents. Now, the question was if he would toss the pine needles in Bobby’s face or not. While pondering this dilemma, Bobby decides to make a move. Faster than Raven’s seen him move in a while, Bobby quickly plants a kiss on Raven’s cheek. 

 

Raven’s taken aback by this show of initiative. For a moment, his brain short circuits. Then, abruptly, he regains consciousness. He clears his throat. Bobby looks at him hopefully, smiling. His mind made up, Raven smiles back. 

 

And promptly tosses the pine needles in Bobby’s face.

 

“You _dick_ ,” Bobby cries, completely unprepared. Raven snickers at his reaction, receiving a glare in return. But it has no malice in it, and as he steps away, Bobby reaches down to pick up the needles. “This is like a shittier version of mistletoe.”

 

That elicits a full on laugh from Raven, who moves from the kitchen to the family room, pulling out his flask while doing so. “I’m gonna watch some TV,” he announces, and Bobby makes a noise of acknowledgement. 

 

With a sigh, Raven plops on the couch, grabbing the remote. He absentmindedly flips through channels, just looking for something to take his mind off of things. Despite the joking around, the threats still nag at him from the back of his mind. A part of him wants to go back to the office so he can focus on work, but he also knows that there’s nothing to be done. He can’t track where the calls were coming from, his security cameras haven’t picked up on anything useful, and the whole goddamn city hated him, so he had no leads there either. It was infuriating, to be so _useless._ It wasn’t even something he could actively investigate, because the city was on _fucking fire all the time._ Seriously, there was a crazy person who was stalking them for who knows why and he barely had time to follow up with them. And when he did, he was always banging his head on a brick wall. 

 

His finger lands on some station showing a war documentary, and Raven doesn’t bother changing it. It wasn’t very Christmas-y, but it wasn’t like Bobby was watching it. Just to be sure, he takes a quick glance at the kitchen, watching as his husband intently scoops out something and puts it in a pan. Raven’s got absolutely no idea what he’s doing that requires that much focus, but inwardly wishes him the best of luck regardless. 

 

Funnily enough, the documentary on the TV is about war in the Middle East. Raven chuckles a bit at the irony and lets himself sink into the couch, taking a large swig of his whiskey again. The flask was pretty much empty at this point, he’d have to refill it later. 

 

Raven fixes his attention back on the program, watching apathetically as the soldiers storm a building. It had been a least a decade since he last served, and if he was being really, _truly_ honest, a small part of him did miss it. Because sure, it had been a horrible, bloody warzone, but at least he knew what to expect. Death was no surprise- it came as naturally as breathing. There was no one he was attached to, no strings holding him back. And it was so brutally easy to just _kill._ To just fall into the role of soldier, because all the killing didn’t matter, so long as you won. It was easy to justify every shot fired, every grenade thrown, because the other side was the enemy. Soldier, civilian, _what did it matter?_ The rush of adrenaline was so tantalizing, almost as addicting as the morphine-

 

Raven remembers feeling numb sometimes. He rarely slept in the Middle East, he just couldn’t trust being able to wake up, but the rare times he did, he remembers feeling absolutely nothing. He went through the day searching for the next addiction, the next reason to keep on doing what he did. Usually it was just morphine, but sometimes, they’d capture trucks full of drugs. And really, who would notice a couple grams or two slipping by unaccounted? They’d be burning the rest anyway. 

 

God, he could practically remember the _smell._ The suffocating smoke filling the air, temporarily blocking out the beating sun. Burning drugs wasn’t the worst he’d done though, not by a long shot. No, the worst things he burned would always be the villages. It was only tactical, anyway, they’d usually be in strategic locations that would greatly help them in future attacks. He rarely went into those fights sober. He always needed something else pumping through his veins, numbing his brain from the cruel reality of it all. Because these were homes, these were places families used to find comfort in. And sometimes, _sometimes, they wouldn’t be abandoned._ They’d be populated with unfortunate people who simply hadn’t gotten out in time, hadn’t run far enough, or weren’t able to run at all. There couldn’t be any survivors. 

 

Even with the drugs, Raven was unable to suppress the flashes that would pop into his head suddenly. Glimpses of tears falling down dirty faces, desperate screaming in a language he didn’t understand, and the _smell, the smell of burning flesh-_

 

And suddenly he’s suffocating, choking on the smell. His hands wrap around his neck as Raven wheezes, desperately trying to breathe. But he _can’t,_ the flames are all around him and so is the smoke invading his lungs, and he’s trying so hard to calm down but all he can hear are the screams all around him slowly being drained out by the sound of gunshots and explosions and the sickening feeling of joy increasing in his stomach but none of it matters because he can’t breathe, he _can’t_ **_breathe-_ **

 

Someone’s screaming his name. Raven doesn’t recognize the voice. All he can think about is the fact that he was gonna die if he sat there any longer, he has to reconvene with the rest of his group, he’s gotta run but he can’t breathe, he can’t move, can’t do anything but watch the world burn and the gunshots get louder and louder- 

 

The yelling doesn’t stop. “Raven?!” It cries, voice worried. Or maybe it was incredulous at his weakness. Because he was such a failure, being brought down by a bit of smoke and people- **_the enemy_ **\- crying. And was that befitting of someone of his rank? Of his stature? Hadn’t he already done far worse? And yet he’s sitting here, grabbing his neck and struggling to control his breathing? What kind of Major was he?

 

A hand lightly taps him on the shoulder and Raven snarls, twisting out of its grip. He would be damned if the enemy got him, he’d rather _suffocate-_

 

“Whoa, hey! Raven! It’s just me, calm down!” The voice is panicked, and it panics Raven too, because what if he can’t make it out in time? What if the enemy gets to him before he can die? What if-

 

“Raven...” It says again, noticeably calmer. Or at least, trying to sound calmer. Even in his panicked state he can hear the strain in the other’s voice. (And whose voice was it anyway? What if it’s the enemy’s voice? What if-) “Babe, look at me. You need to breathe, okay?” Breathing, yeah. That was a thing he needed to do. Not like he’s been trying to do that for the past… who knows how long. 

 

Nevertheless, Raven tries to focus on the person in front of him. The worried blue eyes in front of him are recognizable, and are decidedly _not_ the enemy, which calms him down quite a bit. “In and out, in and out,” the man instructs, and Raven dutifully follows along. 

 

Relief spreads on the other man’s face. “Great, keep going!” He praises. “Keep on breathing like that. You're safe at our house now, see? Not… wherever you were thinking of. Everything’s okay.”

 

 _Our_ house. The inferno raging in his head slowly slips away, and the smoke smell with it. The scene in his mind slowly cracks apart as he focuses on the four walls surrounding him- and the small bite of winter he can feel even indoors. He wasn't in the Middle East anymore, he was at home. Home. With his husband. 

 

And _god,_ Bobby. He must've really worried him. Even though he's much calmer now, Bobby still looks at a loss of what to do. “You with me?” he asks, a little sheepish. He slowly extends his hand again, as if wanting to pull him into a hug, but unsure if he could. Raven ends up being the one who initiates it, pulling Bobby closer without a word.  Bobby stiffens in surprise, but quickly hugs back, holding on to him tightly. Raven lets out a shuddering sigh as he clings on to the other, relishing the feeling of the other in his arms. Bobby was real, he was here with him now. Despite him knowing that, Raven feels tears prickle in his eyes anyways. Whether it’s from the flashback terrors or the relief of escaping from them, he can’t tell- and frankly, he doesn’t care. 

 

The two of them stay like that for a long while, holding each other in the darkened room. Absentmindedly, Raven realizes the TV’s been turned off; Bobby must’ve done it sometime during his episode. A selfish part of him is glad Zelda’s not here- he didn’t want her to see him like this. Hell, he didn’t really want Bobby to see him like this either, but it wasn’t like he could turn back time. And it’s kinda nice just to be held close. Bobby even rocks him back and forth ever so slightly. 

 

Raven’s not sure how long they stay like that. Nevertheless, he knows the moment’s not going to last much longer, just by the way Bobby slows his rocking. He feels the other turn his head to look at him, as if trying to discern what could be going on in his head. But Raven continues to stare forward, lacking the strength to do anything else. Bobby starts to say something (he can tell, just by the way his chin digs into his shoulder for a moment) but then decides against it, turning back again.

 

Eventually though, Bobby does break the silence. “So, were you gonna tell me about your PTSD or…?”

 

“I’m sorry,” Raven blurts out immediately. “I should’ve told you sooner. I thought I had it under control and-”

 

“No, wait, Raven stop. I don’t mean it like that I just-” Bobby breaks off, then sighs. Raven feels a pit of anger fester within him, not at Bobby really, but at himself. At his situation. At his inability to fix all his own problems. At burdening one of the few people he truly loved and cared about. Because _wow,_ some husband he was- couldn’t even handle a couple of memories from his war days, despite the fact that they were years behind him. _Still as weak as ever,_ a voice sneers at him. _You never change, do you? Still the same pathetic soldier you were before-_

 

“Raven!” Bobby’s voice breaks him out of his thoughts. Dimly, Raven realizes that Bobby’s got him by the shoulders, his grip firm, but not painful. His gaze is filled with worry, making Raven flush with guilt. He opens his mouth to apologize again, but Bobby swiftly cuts him off. “Just listen to me for a sec, okay? This isn’t your fault. You don’t need to apologize.”

 

“I didn’t mean to worry you.” His voice cracks and Raven winces at how shaky it sounds. Bobby’s clearly taken aback by it too, but he doesn’t say anything about it. 

 

“You- that’s not-” Bobby stumbles over his words. He takes a moment, breathing in deeply before finally saying, “I just want to help you. Is there anything I can do?”

 

“No, I’m fine now,” Raven insists. Even though his voice comes out smoother, the words come out hollow and phony. And even though Bobby might not be the most perceptive person, Raven could tell that not even he was convinced with his weak lie. 

 

Bobby stares at him for a second. “If you don’t want to talk to me about it,” he says slowly, as if it hurts him, “that’s fine. Just… have you thought about talking to a therapist or somebody? And, uh… do you know what triggered the flashback? Just so I don’t accidentally do it?”

 

Raven sighs wearily. “Bobby, I’ve really got no clue-”

 

“It was the popcorn wasn’t it?” Bobby intones seriously. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to burn it, I literally turned away for one fucking second-”

 

“Honey,” Raven interrupts him, “If it was the burning smell that triggered it, I’d be having flashbacks every time you tried cooking something.” 

 

Bobby makes a face. “Now look, I didn’t burn that soup we all ate yesterday, right? If you have such a big deal with my cooking, I’d like to see you cook dinner!” But then he shakes himself, realizing he’s strayed from the original topic. “But that doesn’t matter! Is there anything I can do to help you?” 

 

Raven sighs again, his distraction plan foiled. Bobby wouldn’t stop until he had some sort of answer, some sort of task he could do. So he allows himself to be vulnerable, just for a moment. “I don’t know,” he breathes, honestly. “Just… could you keep holding me? Like before?”

 

Bobby nods, and within a second, his arms wrap around him again. His grip is tighter than it was previously, both arms curling around his shoulders as he pulls him in. Raven lets himself relax in the embrace, his own hands coming up to hold Bobby in return. The tears that had been trapped in his eyes slowly begin to drift down his cheek, staining Bobby’s jacket. “I love you,” Bobby says after a beat, raw and truthful. Raven lets out a shuddering breath at the declaration, more tears falling down. He feels weak and awful, undeserving of any person’s love, but he knows Bobby wasn’t a person easily swayed. 

 

Still, Bobby didn’t know all of him. He didn’t know about his war days, or his past fiance, the crimes he committed, the people he killed… It wasn’t fair to withhold that information, Bobby deserved to know what kind of man he married, but there was a selfish part of Raven that never wanted to reveal his past atrocities. There wasn’t any guarantee Bobby would stay with him if he knew, what with his high moral compass and all that. But now, after his very obvious flashback, it would be nigh impossible to hide the truth from him any longer. “You shouldn’t,” he responds to Bobby’s declaration of love, “I don’t deserve it.”

 

“That’s not true.” Bobby’s voice is solid, factual. If he weren’t so ignorant of Raven’s past, he’d be touched. “You’re my husband, of course I’m gonna love you. What do you mean, ‘you don’t deserve it’?”

 

“I’m not a good man, Bobby,” Raven chokes out. “You- you don’t know half of the fucked up things I’ve done.”

 

“So what? We’ve all done messed up shit before.” Bobby pulls back from the hug so he can get a better look at his husband. Raven can’t imagine how miserable he must look. “I ran over our adopted daughter, Raven. That’s pretty fucked up.”

 

Still, he shakes his head at Bobby’s weak justifications. “That’s… that’s not what I mean-” His voice rises in pitch and Raven stops himself. _I can’t do this,_ he thinks to himself. He doesn’t want to think about the past. He _can’t_ think of the past. He needs another swig, or maybe a cigarette, something, _anything_ that can take his mind off the reality of it all. He can’t tell Bobby like this, kneeling on the floor with his mind racing a mile a minute. He doesn’t want to focus on it anymore, not after the episode. “Please,” he grates out unable to look in Bobby’s eyes, “Can we do something else?” Bobby opens his mouth- to protest, Raven immediately thinks- but he continues. “I just- I don’t want to think about it.”

 

He can feel Bobby’s eyes bore into him, as if unhappy with his answer. But he agrees nonetheless. “Alright,” he says while shifting, reaching around to grab a bowl that’s sitting on the table beside them. Raven frowns at its sudden appearance- he doesn’t recall seeing that before. The smell of slightly burnt popcorn wafts up to his nose, and Bobby clears his throat. “Do you want to watch a movie?” he offers, catching Raven’s eye again. 

 

“Sure,” Raven replies, weary. “Something funny, I don’t care.” A heavy feeling settles into his bones, weighing them down. He can feel the concern radiating off Bobby in waves, but he chooses to ignore them, opting to sit up on the couch again. His knees ache in protest, a growing reminder of his age, and he settles in, glancing at his phone absentmindedly. He’s missed a text from Zelda, which informs him that she’s on her way home and she bought Pizza Rolls due to her distrust of Bobby’s cooking. Raven cracks a smile at that as Bobby sits next to him, throwing an arm around his shoulders. He puts on some show, but Raven doesn’t pay much attention to it. He lets the chatter fade away as background noise as he relishes his husband’s presence.  

 

A few minutes later, he hears Zelda come in. She and Bobby exchange words before she sits on Raven’s other side, reaching over to grab a fistful of popcorn. As she curls against him, Raven lets out a sigh of content. The bad feelings haven’t gone away, but they’re dulled now, fading into the background just like the movie. He still had to talk to Bobby about what exactly happened, which he wasn’t looking forward to, but he felt that he truly could at least admit the truth now. If Bobby hated him afterwards well… honestly, he had no idea what he would do. He’d cross that bridge when he came to it. For now, he was happy just to stay here, surrounded by the two people he loved most in the world. For now, this was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays everyone! Thanks again for reading! I'll leave you with this sweet 'deleted scene' that didn't make it into the fic-
> 
> “I’m not a good man, Bobby,” Raven chokes out.
> 
> “I don’t believe that,” Bobby says immediately. “Look, I don’t really know what fucked up shit happened before, but that stuff doesn’t matter now. Besides, I married you. And I have the best taste in everything!”
> 
> “...You wanted green napkins for our reception.”
> 
> “I’m telling you, it would’ve looked epic. Green for the BCSO! BLAINE COUNTY 4 LYF!!!”


End file.
